


Daffodils

by magic_one



Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: Angst, Blood, Formula One, Hanahaki Disease, Jos Verstappen's A+ Parenting, LIKE A LOT OF ANGST, M/M, References to Suicide, Unrequited Love, i am so sorry max, this is a heavy one folks, uhhh theres no like outward violence or gore but its still not very friendly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-18
Updated: 2020-04-18
Packaged: 2021-02-26 18:06:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23707738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magic_one/pseuds/magic_one
Summary: Hanahaki Disease (花吐き病 (Japanese); 하나하키병 (Korean); 花吐病 (Chinese))A fictional disease in which the victim coughs up flower petals when they suffer from one-sided love.
Relationships: Daniel Ricciardo/Max Verstappen
Comments: 6
Kudos: 51





	Daffodils

**Author's Note:**

> GUESS I JUST CAN'T LET FLOWERS GO NOW CAN I? :D
> 
> Okay so finally I finished my Alex/George flower shop fic, just editing left, so I wrote this short thing as a sort of reward to myself for finishing it. Hanahaki is totally my guilty pleasure when it comes to fics so I've just been waiting to stretch my angst muscles and write some pain.
> 
> I've wanted to write Maxiel for a while now so I guess I'm starting off with a lot of hurt. Sorry?
> 
> Technically Hanahaki can be cured by surgically removing the petals with a side effect of all the feelings disappearing but since it's a fictional disease and I can do whatever I want I've removed this aspect :')
> 
> Please don't share this fic outside AO3, and know that this is completely separate from and not supposed to speculate about the people in the fic!
> 
> I hope you enjoy, and any comments, kudos, or feedback are super appreciated!

God, he felt so  _ fucking  _ pathetic.

Max heaved and heaved and heaved and yet the pain wouldn’t stop

He made his driver’s room a mess, red spots painted the floor. Bright yellow daffodil petals contrasted the deep colour of his blood. 

It was almost funny, Max could almost laugh. Jos told him never to fall in love, the flowers would destroy him and Jos refused to let his  _ machine  _ get destroyed by something as weak as love.

That’s what he was expected to be, a machine.

He wasn’t supposed to be affected by anything, anyone. He was supposed to power through, win, win, and then win some more. 

Max had always resented the image of him as a machine, a robot, an operator none more human than the car he drove. But, as the roots ingrained themselves in his lungs he wished so deeply that he was indeed made of metal. Metal was inorganic, it couldn’t be strangled from the inside, it couldn’t develop a disease so fucking unfair Max wondered if it was just made by a cruel god having a bit of fun. 

Most of all though, metal couldn’t love. 

His mother always told him stories of love when he was a child. Max adored them, it was an escape from the ruthless training Jos always put him through. There were often flowers in the stories but they were always signs of joy, of happiness. A wedding bouquet, a boutonniere placed delicately on a lapel, a single rose accompanied by a heartfelt confession. 

These flowers were not happy. 

They were misery, a slow and barbaric execution, a death sentence given to an innocent man who only dared to love. 

Daniel’s laugh was the most beautiful thing Max knew. 

He couldn’t convince himself otherwise.

No matter how much he hurt, no matter how many retirements he had to face because he just couldn’t deal with the pain, no matter how many times he choked and tears ran down his face, he couldn’t stop loving Daniel. 

How he longed just to hold Daniel’s hand, longed for a kiss that would prove the flowers wrong. He craved to yell at the sky, at the cruel god who seemed to have an obsession with making sure Max’s life was always accompanied by anguish. He needed Daniel’s arms around his waist, his smile that never failed to convince Max that it would be okay, that they would get through anything.

Together.

But they were not together now.

The flowers showed that they were doomed to be apart.

The worst thing that the flowers did was extinguish any hope one might have. He was robbed of the chance to believe that Daniel could ever love him once the first petal hit the ground. 

He had to go to the factory the next day, face Daniel and know that the stunning man in front of him was the reason he was going to die. 

Apparently Max didn’t have a good poker face.

“Maxy? Are you okay?” Daniel asked that day.

Max had nodded, lied, and then went home and sobbed. Sobbed until his eyes were red, and his throat was raw. The flowers had tightened around his lungs and Daniel didn’t love him. 

Daniel could never know.

Max knew Daniel, knew his kindness, his empathy, admired it. Max knew that if Daniel learned the truth he’d force himself to love Max. But that wouldn’t satisfy the flowers, it had to be true, real. The more his efforts would fail the more Daniel would blame himself, the more they would both be miserable.

It wasn’t Daniel’s fault, not even close. It was Max’s for falling in love, condemning himself to his own version of suicide. 

More petals fell.

More blood.

More pain.

Max curled up in the middle of the small room, alone, more alone than he had ever felt. He went to pick up one of the daffodil petals, coating his fingertips in crimson. He stared at it, etching every detail of it into his brain.

He started laughing.

It was a manic laugh, a sound so clearly unhinged.

It hurt, but Max couldn’t help it, the unfairness of it all. He laughed until he spit out more petals and then he laughed some more. He laughed in the face of his own death, he laughed as he ripped apart the petals, so angry, so sad, so hurt, so  _ fucking pathetic.  _

He slammed his fists against the floor, grateful that no one had come to check on him yet. It was for the best, Max didn’t think he could even begin to explain the scene in front of him. This was a curse he had to bear alone. 

He checked his phone for the time. He had to go to a briefing soon. He grabbed the wipes he always kept in any place he frequented, cleaned up the blood, threw the petals in the garbage and covered them up with a mountain of tissues. 

A knock on the door interrupted his routine. Practically his daily ritual.

A familiar Australian accent travelled through the door.

“Hey Max, you good in there? Don’t forget we have a meeting soon!”

The curse tightened once more. 

“Go on without me, I’ll meet you up there,” Max croaked. He winced, hoping desperately that it didn’t sound like he was in any sort of pain. 

“Cool cool, see ya!” Daniel walked away.

Max choked. 

More yellow.

More red.

_ Pathetic. _

He walked out the door. 

**Author's Note:**

> As I mentioned, I love writing Hanahaki so maybe I'll do more pairings? We'll see if people like this one :'D
> 
> Hope you liked it, and again any kudos, comments, or feedback are always welcome and appreciated :D


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